Watching From The Sidelines
by StoryDiva
Summary: Set after the season finale. Luke's POV on Joan getting sick at school.


Title: Watching From the Sidelines 

Spoilers: Through season finale of first season 

Summary: Luke's reaction when Joan collapsed at school. 

A/N: So the whole time I was watching the finale, I was wondering how those around Joan reacted when she collapsed and this sprung out of that. Feedback always appreciated and much love to rachelwilder for her wonderful beta-abilities. 

I'm one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason, that for every action there is a consequence and that every molecule exists with a purpose. It's always made things easier for me in the past. I like knowing that I'm a small piece of machinery in this big cosmos of organisms, planets, and galaxies that are all inter-related, even when we don't understand how. It provides piece of mind to know that things are working out the way they were meant to, that science is always at work, even when the results are less than pleasing. 

It was easier until I saw nature and science at work firsthand and I found myself questioning everything. I still believed that everything happened for a reason, maybe something as small as the chaos theory at work, but when it involved something that happened to you, it was harder to accept. Questions like why me, why us, why, why, why, why overpowered everything else and I wished those reasons things happened were more accessible. 

Right then I needed an easy answer. For once, simple would've been appreciated. 

It happened in slow motion. It was weird—drawn out and scary. One minute my sister was complaining to me and Grace about being sick. One minute we were walking along the front sidewalk of the school while entertaining thoughts of a whole summer away and all the things we could do. One minute I was commenting about the improbability of my sister and the vice principal making it to the finish line without disaster ensuing, spouting out the ratio of failure with that of success. One minute I was watching my sister fumble around with an egg on a spoon, laughing at the image I would have for years to come. All these small things that made me think that maybe this year hadn't been so bad only to be sucked into oblivion when my sister collapsed a few moments later. 

Shouldn't I have done something? I'm not sure I'll ever forget the way Joan fell to the ground and everyone stood theredoing nothing, including me. I think I was thrown off by it all, but why was that? Joan had mentioned that she was feeling sick, I had seen the rash up close that morning (unfortunately), and I didn't do anything. I'm her brother. I'm supposed to be there for her—I _should've been _there for her. Maybe I should've forced her to leave and go to the doctor. Though, in fairness to myself, getting Joan to do anything she doesn't want to is an infeasible act. She's insane and stubborn and she can still beat me up and I bruise easily 

I should've done something. She would've done something for me. She would've protected me in her own twisted way. (Something that most assuredly would have caused more problems—like getting us run over by a four-year-old on a bicycle or something equally as inane.) Instead, I stood there noticing the way my sister had fallen in a perfect crescent shape and thought about how she took care of me when I had the flu. She made sure my space camp application got in, she checked on me, and force-fed me foods with potassium, and I stood there helpless while God knew what harmed her. 

It was Grace that moved first. She knelt down, shaking my sister, and saying, Girardi, you're such a drama queen. Girardiwake up, Girardi over and over. When she noticed that no one else had moved, including the teachers, she snapped, You'd think someone would've called for help by now. 

It was then that I forced my legs to move. I dropped my bag and grabbed Joan's cellphone from her pocket. I couldn't say exactly what I did at that point—it was a blur. I called someone, though I don't know who. I pressed numbers frantically and realized that my scientific nature left me in those tough situations. What good was all my level headedness if I couldn't draw on it in times of emergency? 

I touched my sister's shoulder and tried to lure her out of whatever this was with a well placed insult and there might have been a moment where I got rather protective of her, not letting anyone else too close. I don't really know. It didn't make sense and I wondered if this was what I would've been like had I been on the scene of Kevin's accident. Was rationality anything more than a mirage when faced with the chance of losing someone? 

I noticed the concern etched on everyone's face when they couldn't wake her up and the school nurse announced she was burning up. I squeezed my sister's hand the way I had when we were in the waiting room after Kevin's accident. I expected her to look up at me, roll her eyes, and call me a big girl, but she didn't. She was motionless. Sweaty and cold at the same time. Pale, too pale...and quiet. I couldn't recall the last time Joan was silent for more than few seconds. 

I refused to look at Grace or Adam the entire trip to the hospital. It was too surreal, both behaving so unlike the two personalities I had come to know and it scared me. I thought back to my brother's accident and how my mother had started behaving so differently and I wondered if this thing with Joan was as bad as Kevin's accident. I wondered if witnessing Joan pass out like that would leave scars on all of us the way it did my mother. I sat in the front seat with the vice principal, who insisted on driving us to the hospital himself, and kept my full attention on the houses and stores we passed. 

Both Grace and Adam looked to me when we arrived at the hospital as if I knew what to do. Being the smart guy didn't mean anything when your sister was sick and you were the only one in your family around. They kept looking to me to do something, to step up and take control of the situation, so I did what I could. I bugged the nurses on duty until they sent an intern out who spoke for what felt like hours without really saying anything. There was a mention of more tests necessary and high fevers and unable to wake her up. Something about being patient too, which made the blood boil and itch under my skin until I had to escape. 

I excused myself from the waiting room, said I had to call my parents and Kevin, and walked around aimlessly. I noticed a young couple crying and thought, Here we are again. It had become a habit with my family. Someone always ended up in the hospital. It was as though Kevin's accident had unleashed a flood of bad cosmic activity into the air. It had the makings of a great scientific study—the research of karma for past Girardi generation's depraved actions and how retribution manifested itself now. 

Why did I keep thinking about Kevin's accident? This wasn't Kevin. It was Joan. She wasn't in a stupid accident. She was strange and moody, always undertaking weird new hobbies and never beyond calling me a in front of the entire schoolbut I counted on my sister. I always had. She was a decent person with a tendency to pull stupid stunts. She didn't deserve this. Why was this happening again? 

I needed someone to blame for this, right? Was it Adam's fault? He was going to dump my sister afterwhat about the stupid vice principal for not seeing how sick she was? Mostly I was mad at myself. Kevin would've noticed something wasn't right and forced Joan into his car. Kevin would've saved the day before she crumpled up in a small ball in front of the entire school. Kevin was the good brother. 

I wandered around, but somehow ended back where I started. I stood there on the edge of the waiting room. I was unable to rejoin Adam and Grace, but I couldn't move away either. I watched with a perverse interest as people separated into two groups: the will-survives and the I'm-sorry-buts. I glanced at Joan's friends and the way each of them were pretending not to notice the others around them, trying not to commit to a group quite yet. 

I rested my head on the wall and tried to make sense of what was going on. I hated when things didn't add up right—it was like watching Dad attempt to cook. He would add ingredients with no rhyme or reason—dumping whatever he could get his hands on into a bowl and mixing it all together—and I would be left slackjawed and slightly nauseous. 

A voice in my head told me that my sister needed me, that I had to move away, but my feet were superglued to the diamond-patterned floor. I ignored the voice by running mathematical equations, figuring out how many diamond squares were on the floors for the entire building. I tapped my fingers on the walls and observed people coming and going, some with smiles, some with relief etched on their faces, and some just like me—unsure of what to do next. 

Kevin's voice pulled me out of my own fog. I wondered when I had called him. Things were still so hazy. I must've handled things better than I thought. Words sputtered out, trying to solve the mystery until finally Kevin said, Grace called me. She said you disappeared awhile ago. I think she'd roll my off the roof for saying this, but I think she was worried about you. 

So Grace called? It figured. She was always so cool and collected. She knew how to behave in a crisis. 

I think I left a message for Mom, I said, refusing to take my eyes off the waiting room. 

Well, I did. I left messages for both her and dad. I'll keep calling though, Kevin replied. He moved himself closer to me and asked, How's she doing? 

I don't know. I stopped and glanced at my brother. I thought, I probably should know though, right? I'm a scientist. I should be able to figure this out. 

I didn't realize I said it aloud at first let alone the volume at which it must have come out until I noticed eyes—random eyes, _strangers' _eyes—on me with that faux sympathetic glimmer oozing out. I shook my head and muttered, 

I don't know anything, Kevin. They were running tests and not talking about things, I paused. I met my brother's gaze. I didn't care if he was going to make fun of me or anything else in those brief seconds. I sighed and said, It wasn't good though, Kevin. It was in everything the guy didn't say and then I kept remembering how she fell to the ground. She just 

It's Joan. She's so hardheaded nothing can knock her out. Believe me, I used to try when we were little. 

This is different. You didn't see her, Kevin. She was acting insane 

Sounds about normal for Joan. 

She told me how sick she was, but I blew her off and—she collapsed, Kevin. 

I could see the worry lines on Kevin's face, but he covered them up quickly with a shrug. He said, She probably ingested one too many fumes during her latest foray into making sock puppets or something. 

I laughed, but stopped abruptly. I shook my head and said, She'll be okay, right? 

But what if she's— 

I'm the big brother, Luke. I know all. She's going to be fine. She hasn't tortured either of us enough yet. 

I nodded and replied, Maybe the doctors know something now. 

Yeah. We should be there when the doctors find out what's wrong, Kevin replied. He smiled at me and patted my arm, She's gonna be okay, Luke. I promise. He turned himself around and headed back toward the others. 

I watched my brother for a moment and found that I could move again, found that I believed Kevin was right. Joan would be okay. Joan wasn't nearly done biting my head off for taking the last waffle or running into my room in a frenzy to help her with a chemistry equation. 

I walked back to the area and locked eyes with Grace for a minute. She smiled reassuringly at me and I sat down on the hard plastic chair next to her. I glanced at Grace and Adam and said, She's going to be fine. Maybe with enough reiteration, it would make it true. 

_{/fin}_


End file.
